The Slaves to Darkness march through the Mortal Realms in the name of the Dark Gods, ever pushing back against Sigmar’s dreams of peace and prosperity. They have suffered and sacrificed to conquer this land – and inflicted suffering in turn. Now none will halt their renewed advance, in a tide of blackened armour, twisted bulk, and trampling hooves.
From the blood-soaked wilds of the Mortal Realms, they come, the merciless reavers of the Darkoath. Counted among the dreaded Slaves to Darkness, these fearsome human tribes have sworn vows of carnage and butchery beneath the gaze of their malevolent gods, and they will fulfil them at any cost – for if they fail, their souls are forfeit. Descendants of those unfortunate humans left behind when Sigmar retreated behind the Gates of Azyr, the Darkoath entered into pacts with the deities of ruin to endure the unendurable. As merciless as they are proud, they launch raids from their Chaos-corrupted homelands, fulfilling oaths of slaughter and vengeance.
Spoken of in fearful whispers by warlords and kings, Archaon is the shadow of Chaos falling upon the Mortal Realms. Greatest of the Dark Gods’ champions, the Exalted Grand Marshal of the Apocalypse, he is the Everchosen - the doom of all.
The Adeptus Mechanicus march to war as a disturbing fusion of flesh and machine, ruling Tech-Priests and fanatical cyborg followers raising modified voices in binharic praise of the Machine God. Purge Corps Deltic-9 are equipped to scour the contamination of enemy presence from locations of strategic or exploratory importance, employing cybernetic speed and terrifying weapons. Cavalry and winged Pteraxii unleash gouts of purging flame, before radioactive Skitarii bring up the rear to reclaim whatever remains.
Be'lakor, the Dark Master, is the first of the Daemon Princes and a consummate champion of Chaos.
The Slaves to Darkness march across the Mortal Realms in the names of Archaon Everchosen, Be'lakor the Dark Master, and the Gods of Chaos themselves, ever-fighting to crush Sigmar's oppressive notions of peace. They have suffered and sacrificed to conquer this land – and inflicted untold suffering in turn. Now none will halt their renewed advance – the armoured tread of their warriors, bone-shaking hooves of knights, and grinding chariot wheels storm across the battlefield in a relentless tide.
Warlords of incredible power and menace in their own right, the Varanguard have grown into creatures of immense cruelty over many lifetimes of merciless slaughter and conquest.
Daemon Princes were once mortal champions of Chaos, elevated to eternal daemonhood as a coveted reward from their mercurial patrons. Each of these corrupt monstrosities is a walking testament to the infernal power of Chaos, an immortal warlord blessed with manifold malevolent gifts throughout their long and treacherous Path to Glory. A Daemon Prince soars or strides across the battlefield like an omen of doom, unleashing all the warp-forged weaponry, monstrous strength, and unholy sorcery at their disposal.